


TheRealBeelzebub: Unspoken Scenes

by RaspberriIcedTea



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: "Yes" AU, Alcohol, All the relationships are in different universes so they can all coexist, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Repression, Enemies to Lovers, Heartbreak, Heaven & Hell, Implied Sexual Content, Kidnapping, Multiple Universes Colliding, Other, Past Darker Content, Pining, Protecting Earth, Rebellion, Repressed Memories, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens), Unrequited Love, healing from dark pasts, there's fluff in this too I promise, therealbeelzebub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23572537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaspberriIcedTea/pseuds/RaspberriIcedTea
Summary: A collection of scenes from the Tumblr blog "therealbeelzebub" from Mod Human herself, an oddly specific spinoff of Good Omens featuring a rather rebellious version of Beelzebub. even if you're not an  asker on the blog, there are some cute ineffable buersjsjfacracy scenes you may like. I'm gonna try to go in chronological order here but bear with me.Sorry A&C aren't in this very much :(
Relationships: Beelzebub & Dagon (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Dagon (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Dagon/Michael (Good Omens), Dagon/OC (Good Omens)
Kudos: 5





	1. The Lavender Blanket

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Real Beelzebub](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/580897) by "Pink", "Mod Human", "raspberri-iced-tea". 



> Takes place in July of 2019. Beelzebub and Gabriel have been assigned to visit Earth in order to search for the source of Aziraphale and Crowley's power. Beelzebub determines that alcohol is not a source.

This was not what Beelzebub had planned.

For the first few minutes after having one too many drinks, they felt invincible. Everything was blurry, and it looked better that way. Then the buzz wore off, and everything just looked...blurry.

“What are you doing out here? You can barely stand up in this state...” A familiar voice echoed in their head, and they felt themselves being lifted into the air by a strong pair of arms.

_Enemy_ arms.

“You should’ve stopped drinking long before now. It isn’t safe out here like this.” He continued. Beelzebub squirmed, expecting to be discorporated right then and there, and silently scolded themselves for being so reckless. And yet, though the sickly sweet scent of lavender taunted the few senses they had left, the Prince of Hell remained unharmed.

Why?

A bell rang, and a blast of cold air met them as they were carried outside. Their inhibitions gone, Beelzebub nestled into his embrace, grasping at his lapels and pressing against his chest to keep warm.

“I guess you like lavender, huh?” He muttered, smiling in amusement.

They attempted to protest _‘Disgusting’_ , but only replied with an incomprehensible grumble.

After an amount of time they were in no condition to calculate, Beelzebub began to recognize their surroundings. They entered an elevator, and then a hallway, and finally arrived in their apartment. The enemy laid them on the couch, but they still clung to the warmth he provided.

“C’mon...I can’t stay, or else Sober-You will chew me out…here, take this.” His voice soothed the prince.

Suddenly, they felt something fuzzy and lavender-scented being tucked in around them.

“Goodnight, Bee.”

Something soft graced their forehead, and then the enemy disappeared into the night. One thought persisted in their mind before they drifted off into a feverish slumber.

_“Bee”...?_


	2. Good Morning Centauri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place the morning after The Duel. August 6th, 2019.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the implied spicy content. Nothing graphic, just the morning after.  
> First person Beelzebub POV.

A peaceful darkness holds me in its arms, having met me before only a few times. In the warm embrace of sleep, one’s consciousness transcends time. I used to find the practice inefficient and weakening, to lie still and accomplish nothing for hours or even days, vulnerable to an enemy’s attack at any given time. Today, however, circumstances had changed. After all, if I were going to live amongst the humans, it was only logical that I learn to blend in. Although, I’d soon remember that there was another reason I had given in to such pesky feelings as “tiredness.”  
I come to my senses as the morning sun tickles my eyelids from the window. As I do so, I take note of the things I feel around me. Blankets and pillows, a thin sheet of fabric veiling me from the outside world and a mattress that sinks under my weight.  
Soft.  
Fluffy.  
 _Ugh._  
My second and third least favorite things.  
I open my eyes, ignoring the stinging sensation, and sit up. It’s as if I’ve been asleep for years, and a sinking feeling settles in my gut once I realize that’s entirely possible. That feeling is stronger still when it hits me that I don’t recognize my surroundings. Everything is either white, grey, or some other washed-out color that could easily be mistaken for the former two. A wisp of a memory creeps into the back of my mind, but I can’t put my finger on it until I notice a hideous pair of shoes sitting by the door. It’s hard to forget your fourth least favorite thing. Or are they my fifth? I’ve lost count, but it doesn’t matter right now anyway.  
I rise from the bed, and with a wave of my hand, I make myself presentable. In a few short strides, I’m at the door. I turn the handle and step out of the room.  
It’s quiet in the hallway. Too quiet. Am I alone here? I better not be.  
The floorboards creak under my feet as I make my way to the living room. The walls are painted a pale beige, just like everything else in this place. Bland, boring, sterile.  
That’s the moment I see him.  
I suddenly find myself swimming in ambivalence. I haven’t been abandoned, that much is comforting. Still, seeing the supposed enemy in his own home isn’t exactly a relaxing experience.  
“Oh! You’re up. Good morning, sleepyhead. Funny, I didn’t think I’d be up before you.” He greets me, a smug expression running fleetingly across his face.  
Without a doubt, my number one least favorite thing.  
“Hmph.”  
I sit down on a chair, crossing my arms. He smiles at me, but I look away. My ears feel hot, a knot forms in my gut, and I realize I don’t want to address the elephant in the room just yet.  
“There’s something on my mind that I’ve been meaning to ask you.” I told him.  
“What’s that?”  
“You could’ve lived anywhere you wanted. A grand mansion, a luxurious penthouse, even a castle if you pulled some strings. Why did you choose this tiny cottage?”  
He mulls over this thought for a moment, and then draws in his breath to answer. “A change of scenery, that’s all.”  
“Sick of all the pristine skies?”  
“You could call it that, I suppose.  
“What about you? Of all the places you could’ve gone, why did you end up in a dingy apartment complex?”  
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “…Reminds me of home.”  
I lied, deciding to keep my elevator-riding escapades to myself.  
“That’s good,” he responds, “considering neither of us are going home for a while.”  
“You can say that again.”  
“Why? Did you not hear me?”  
I roll my eyes. “It’s something humans say when they agree with each other.”  
“Oh.”   
A silence falls over the room. With the lighthearted banter now gone, the weight of my treason starts to sink in.   
“So...what now?” I ask.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean, surely there’s no going back after this. Where do we go? What do we do? They’re bound to find out if they haven’t already, and soon we’ll be stripped of our titles and cast out. Or _worse_.”  
He sighs, stopping to think for a moment. He furrows his brow, inhales for an awkward amount of time, and answers.  
“What do you say we hunt some renegades?”


	3. The Broadcast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place the day after Good Morning Centauri. From Dagon’s POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes...this is where things start to get a little weird! You guys know how there’s surveillance in Heaven and Hell? Well, um...Mammon, another Prince(ss) of Hell had the bright idea for The Broadcast. Calamity ensues.

My first thought when I found out was: _This can’t be good._  
The enraged shouts from the demons around me cemented that thought into my mind. In that moment, the only thing I could focus on was the dire need to remove myself from the scene. I shoved my way through the crowd of angry coworkers, and their shrieks of protest gave me partial respite from the sounds making my ears burn.   
That isn’t saying much, though.  
 _I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. I have to-_  
“Where do you think you’re going?!”  
I run headfirst into Hastur.  
“I’m going to get them to turn this shit off.” I blurted out. I had no clue where that idea came from, but there was no going back now, so I looked Hastur in the eye as if that had been my plan all along.  
“I don’t see the problem.” He replied, crossing his arms across his chest.  
“ _You_ wouldn’t.”   
I don’t know where that remark came from, but I don’t regret making it.   
“You aren’t in the best position here, Dagon. It doesn’t take an idiot to see that you and the traitor used to be friends. How can we know you’re not going to run off and join them?”  
I didn’t have the energy to make conversation while there was a riot erupting around me.  
“I have to go! Get _out_ of the way!!”  
I shoved the Duke of Hell himself aside and stormed off.

I did exactly what I said I would do. I walked right up to the source of the broadcast and found Lord Mammon spinning around in a swivel chair, looking awfully pleased with herself. When she noticed me, she stopped spinning abruptly and plastered a malicious grin across her face.  
“Pretty efficient, don’t you think? A broadcast gets the point across, reaches everybody in a short amount of time, and is irrefutable. It’s a stroke of genius on my part, to tell you the truth.”  
“Turn it off.”  
“What?!”   
“You heard me! Turn it off!”  
She scoffed and waved a hand in my face. “I don’t think so. Look, it’s just getting to the good part!”  
I balled my hands into fists and slammed them on the desk as hard as I could, partially to drown out everything else, and shouted in her face. “I _**DEMAND**_ it!!!”  
Mammon burst out laughing. “Honey, you aren’t in a position to _demand_ anything. You’re in charge of paperwork and torture. You just report the info, I can do with it what I damn well please. Run along now.”  
I fought the urge to burst into tears, and instead took matters into my own hands. I turned to the setup she’d organized and lunged for the controls.  
“HEY!!! What the fuck is your problem?!?!”  
She tried to stop me, but by the time she’d managed to tear me from the console, I had taken some complicated-looking equipment with me.  
Silence has never sounded so much like music to my ears.  
Once I could think clearly again, I realized just how badly I’d fucked up. Still, I stood my ground as Mammon shot me a glare so furious that it could vaporize any human unlucky enough to have warranted it.  
“Head Office. _Now_.”


	4. Coral Reef

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place some time after The Broadcast. Beelzebub’s POV.   
> Dagon confronts Beelzebub, and secrets come up to the surface.

I hear a knock at the door, and I look through the peephole to see Dagon standing on the steps, fidgeting with her hands. I open the door, and she greets me with a curt nod. This is not going to be an enjoyable conversation.  
“Can we talk?” She asks.  
My corporeal heart begins to pound with dread.  
“...I think we need to, yes.” I break eye contact and pretend to be extremely intrigued by my shoes; then she says the one thing I’ve been afraid she’d say this whole time.  
“We know.”  
In that moment, I know there’s no going back. Not anymore.  
“...Ah.”   
I look up at her, and catch a glimpse of a cold fury in her eyes. I begin to think I’m done for until she makes her next inquiry.  
“Did you get hurt?”  
“What?!” I exclaim, shocked that she’d jump to such dismal conclusions to preserve my image in her mind. “No, no...no one hurt anyone.”  
Her expression softens, and she lets out a long breath. “Oh…” Then she realizes the entirety of what that meant. “... ** _oh_**. So you--?”  
“Yes.”  
“I thought surely there must have been some misunderstanding…”  
“You thought wrong.”  
She looks away, searching the surroundings for something—anything—that can occupy her attention more than myself. The air feels heavy.  
“... _Why_?”  
A pang of guilt twists at my insides. I try to come up with a sufficient reason, but a muddled mess of feelings and a rush of impulsivity are the only things I can bring forth from my memory, so I tell the truth for once in my existence.  
“I don’t know.”  
A silence seizes the room. What else am I supposed to say?  
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” She asks me, struggling to keep her composure.  
“I don’t know anything about love.” I respond.  
“I do. At least, I used to.”  
She glances at her silver painted nails, and that’s when it hits me.  
Well.   
That explains a lot.  
“You mean-?” I begin, but she cuts me off.  
“Don’t. I can’t...I can’t do this right now. Not like this.” Tears brim in her eyes, and she turns to head for the door. Her ponytail whips around her head like the fin of a retreating sailfish.  
“Dee, wait.” I step towards her, reaching out a hand into the air between us, into all the empty space that I’ve made.  
She looks back for a moment to say, “You smell like lavender.”  
And then she’s gone.  
I feel a lump in my throat.


	5. The Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Person Beelzebub's POV. Takes place August 23rd, 2019. Heaven knows.

“Gabriel?...You okay?”

He jerks upright, startled, and turns his head to look at me. His face has gone pale, and the look in his eyes will haunt my nightmares for some time.

“They know.”

I’m getting really sick of those two words.

I take a deep breath. “Well, we knew they’d find out eventually.”

He doesn’t look any calmer. “Bee, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“Do  _ what _ anymore?”

“Stay here.”

“It’s not like you can just go out, there are people looking for--”

“That’s not what I mean.”

I freeze.

“Gabriel...Please don’t tell me you--”

“If I leave now, maybe I can tell them I made a mistake.”

“ _ Stop _ interrupting me!!” I snapped. “You’re out of your mind if you think they’ll forgive you for something like this. You and I tried to execute the rebels for less!”

“I wouldn’t call ruining Armageddon ‘less’.”

“Treason is treason.”

He stands up from his chair, and faces me, his usual confidence returning to his expression. 

“What if I didn’t want to be a traitor?”

That hits hard. I can’t help thinking of Dagon, and I wonder if this was how she felt when she found out the truth.

“...Then you should have thought of that before you made the decision.” I retort.

“ _ Your _ decision.”

_ That  _ hits harder than anything has ever hit me. And that’s against some stiff competition. 

I step back and scoff dismissively. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”

“Your decision. My mistake.”

_ He didn’t. _

“ _ Bullshit _ !” I begin to raise my voice. “Do you have any idea how hard I tried to  _ not  _ hurt your ‘feelings’ that day? I thought we were going to be  _ obliterated _ , but you never heard a  _ peep _ from me about the decision, and you know what?! I’m glad I kept my mouth shut! _ ”  _ I blink back tears. I can’t fall apart. Not now.  “For once in my existence...I’m  _ happy.  _ Genuinely, unapologetically  _ happy!  _ You can’t honestly look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel the same.”

He looks me in the eye.

Then he walks past me.

“Where on Earth are you going to go?” I ask.

“Home.” He replies flatly, taking his coat and opening the door.

I’ve grown desperate, and before I know it, I’m practically flying across the room and grabbing his arm to stop him from meeting his end beyond the bookshop walls. 

“ _ Wait!!! _ ”

Tears escape my eyes and roll down my cheeks like raindrops on concrete. “Don’t go.” I rack my brain for things to say to make him wait. Just long enough to talk him out of this. To keep him  _ safe.  _ “ _ Please. _ ” 

“I’m sorry.”

He pulls his arm away and walks out of the bookshop.

I summon all the strength I have left, and make one last attempt to convince him to turn back.

“You’re the best fucking thing that ever happened to me.”

He stops, but he doesn’t turn around.

“That’s why I have to go.” He says.

I stop sacrificing my dignity and harden my gaze into a glare.

“Goodbye, Gabriel.”

I slam the door.

  
  
  
  


An angel weeps.


	6. The Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place August 26th, 2019.  
> Gabriel has been taken captive by Heaven, and the rebellion launches a rescue mission to save him. Edited from a collection of blog posts to give a less "jumbled up" reading experience.

The group bursts through the doors, not caring anymore if they’d be seen.

The room is open and vast, making the figures inside look like a couple dolls in a large kitchen cupboard. 

Of course, that isn’t taking into account the giant pillar of hellfire.

Gabriel, standing uncomfortably close to the flames, turns around to face the intruders as they arrive. Beelzebub’s heart drops as they lock eyes with Gabriel.

_Dear Satan, what did they **do** to you–?_

“ _GABRIEL-_ ”

“ **Don’t make another move**.” an unfamiliar voice echoes through the room as an angel begins to glow white and lose their humanoid form.

Beelzebub and Dagon shield their eyes from the blinding light. Aziraphale stares right into it effortlessly, and Crowley finally has a conventional use for his sunglasses.

“Gabriel, let’s _GO!_ ” Beelzebub yells. “We‘re busting you out of here!!!”

“ **Let him make his choice. His Decision, if you will.** ” The voice bellows. “ **Traitor Gabriel. You have a chance to make things right. To take responsibility for your actions. Step into the fire. It’s what real angels do.”**

Gabriel takes a shaky step towards Beelzebub.

“ **TAKE RESPONSIBILITY!!!** ” The voice shouts, shaking the room.

Gabriel stumbles, and then summons the strength he has left to rise to his feet.

“ **DON’T LISTEN TO THEM. THEY AREN’T RIGHTEOUS LIKE WE AR** **E. ST** **EP INTO THE FIRE. PROVE YOUR LOYALTY.** ”

Gabriel looks back at the fire as it roars and laps at the air like a hungry lion. 

The things he needed to say for days finally crept through his lips.

“I’m so sorry, Beelzebub. I lied to you. The only mistake I ever made was lying to you.” 

“ **NO ANGEL HAS EVER SHIRKED THEIR RESPONSIBILITIES, GABRIEL. IF YOU RUN AWAY FROM YOUR SHAME NOW, YOU CAN NEVER BE FORGIVEN.** ”

“It’s not your place to decide who is forgiven and who is not!” Aziraphale protests.

“ **DO YOU HEAR THAT, GABRIEL? THAT IS WHAT THE TRAITORS SAY.** ”

Gabriel takes a step towards the fire. The fire has no smell. Not even smoke, or the comforting scent of a lit candle. Just emptiness.

And then, something shifts in him and he stops. A change of heart, divine intervention, absolute madness…

Call it what you will.

Gabriel runs–or, more accurately, collapses–into Beelzebub’s arms. The self-appointed Prince of the Rebellion uses all the demonic strength they can muster to sling Gabriel over their shoulders and run as fast as they can, flanked by the other members of the rebellion.

“ **GET BACK HERE!!!**

##  **_AFTER THEM!!!!”_ **

Dagon absentmindedly realizes that there’s probably no covering up her treason now. Oh well, it’s not like she’d been planning on going back any time soon.

They make it through the gates and down the stairs.

They’re _home._


End file.
